


Yours Forever

by silvertrails



Series: Fourth Age and Beyond [29]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-21 17:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17646806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvertrails/pseuds/silvertrails
Summary: After the Dagor Dagorath Sauron returns to the service of Aulë and Yavanna.





	1. Chapter 1

**Yours Forever  
BY CC  
July, 2017**

This is an amateur effort and does not intend to infringe on the rights of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit is made and no harm is intended. This story refers to the events of “The End of Days.” 

This is a rewrite of an old fic. Some parts will be the same, and some will change.

* * *

_Darkness, unlike he had ever endured before. Coldness that seeped into his spirit, making him wish for the warmth of his lord Aulë’s house. Silence, so total that Sauron wondered if this was oblivion. His body trembled uncontrollably though, a body he could no longer leave because his new lord, his master had forbidden it. Mairon was trapped by the invisible shackles Melkor had put in his flesh and in his mind, yet he wanted nothing but to be in his master’s arms. He wanted nothing but to feel the demanding lips on his flesh, and cry aloud, burning in the heat that was Melkor._

_Escape was no longer possible, was it?_

_A chuckle in his mind startled Sauron, and the satisfied smirk on the cruel face made his spirit shimmer. Why this reaction to the imminent closeness and possession? What had Melkor done to him? Why was Mairon so willing to stay in the powerful Vala’s hands? He would be free if only he called for his lord Aulë, but then, he would never see Melkor again._

_“Have you been thinking of calling Aulë again, my bold one?”_

_He heard Melkor’s voice before the Vala took the flesh before him. Sauron started to shake his head, but Melkor’s laughter made him freeze with terror. Would Melkor leave him now? Would his master punish him with his absence? It was unnerving not to know, and humiliating to feel like this. Melkor could trap him, silence him, blind him… Mairon could endure anything but Melkor’s absence._

_“There is no need to lie to me, my beautiful servant. I know what is in your heart, and how you long for free will. I will grant your wish, Mairon. You can leave now.”_

_Mairon moaned when Melkor reached for him, carefully making him sit up. The Vala smoothed his hair, stroking his cheeks almost lovingly. Mairon wanted to kiss him, to hold him close and never let go, but he dared not do anything that might anger his master._

_“Call for Aulë now,” Melkor said softly, his hands still in Mairon’s hair._

_“B-but…”_

_“I’m not lying, lovely one.”_

_“If I leave now…”_

_“You will never come back again,” Melkor said. “I will erase your mind so you don’t tell Aulë about us. You will be free to start again.”_

_Mairon shook his head weakly. “I want to stay with you, please…”_

_Melkor chuckled softly. “You were thinking of escaping just now.”_

_Tears rolled down Mairon’s cheeks. “I am sorry, Master. Please, allow me to stay. I cannot live without you.”_

_“If you stay, I will never make this offer again.”_

_Mairon shivered. “I am yours, Master, forever.”_

_Melkor smiled and pulled him closer, parting his lips in a harsh and demanding kiss. Mairon melted against his strong body, feeling the darkness slowly surround him, embracing it willingly as the price for their closeness. Melkor owned him and Mairon would never leave him. Nothing on Arda would ever separate them…_

Sauron sat bolt upright, gasping for air as the last tendrils of the nightmare let go of his mind. He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated with his inability to let go of the past. He should not be having this dream. Not anymore. This was supposed to be Arda Healed, so why was he not healing? Sauron rubbed his face with his fingers and slid his feet to the floor. It was time to get up and see to his duties. 

He had been allowed to come back to Aulë’s household, and though no restraint had been placed on him, Sauron knew that the others didn’t trust him. He couldn’t blame them. Sauron wouldn’t have trusted himself if he were in the others’ place. As things were, it was a marvel that Eru had given Sauron his life back.

Many things had happened since Melkor was defeated in the last battle, the Dagor Dagorath, where even the Secondborn had been given the chance of revenge. Not revenge, no, Námo had said then, but justice. Sauron shrugged. Justice or revenge, what did it matter? Melkor had been killed, either way. 

Sauron sighed, as he headed to the baths, his mind still in the moment when Time started again. Sauron had woken in his Lord Aulë’s lair, along with Curunír. A nice reminder of his sins. At least Curunír had Olórin to keep him company. Nobody but the very young ones wanted to spend time with Sauron, and their parents were not thrilled. 

There had been a child who had stopped once to watch Sauron work until Varda had called him. The child had smiled at Sauron and rushed to the Lady of the Stars’ side, making Sauron believe it was her son, he resembled Manwë greatly, after all. When Sauron saw him again, the child had grown into a beautiful youngster. Dark-blond hair and penetrating grey eyes that seemed to look into Sauron’s spirit. Years passed, and when the boy grew into adulthood, Sauron believed himself back in the land of dreams. Why had he not recognized Melkor before? Why had nobody told him about this? Did the Quendi know? Did Melkor remember? 

Aulë had confirmed the truth, and warned Sauron not to call the young Vala by the accursed name. Melkor was called Meren now, and Eru had erased his memories before giving him to Manwë and Varda. The Quendi knew, at least the descendants of the three kings knew. Meren was different now, no longer evil. Eru must love Melkor greatly, Sauron mused as he reached the baths. 

The place was deserted, which was good because Sauron was in no mood for pleasantries. All he wanted was to refresh himself and try to relax enough to work on the silver lamps for his lady’s garden. Even after years away from the crafts, Sauron was one of the most skilled Maiar in Aulë’s household. It was ironic that he worked with light after living for so long in absolute darkness. 

“Are you awake, Sauron?”

Sauron started. Had he fallen asleep once again? He looked up to see Curunír. The Maia had shed the old man’s disguise, and his long silver hair was held by a mithril circlet. Surely Olórin was going to come. 

“I am now,” Sauron said.

“Our lord Aulë asks for you.” 

“Do you perhaps know why he is calling me?”

Curunír shook his head slowly, his expression reminding Sauron of the fallen Maia he had once controlled. None of them were completely rid of evil, were they? The seeds would always be there.

Sauron quickly dried his body and wrung the moisture from his hair. He could have tried to reach out with his mind, but that would have been rude, and would have made Aulë furious. It was not easy to remember how to be good. Only Melkor had been given the gift of innocence. 

As he approached Aulë’s lair, Sauron saw a figure he knew well. Manwë had come, and he did not look happy. Sauron quickly reviewed his last actions and decided that he had been boringly good. Why would Manwë be angry at him? Aulë didn’t look happy either, but he was usually frowning so how could Sauron guess. 

“My lords,” Sauron said, bowing. “You required my presence.”

“We have been watching you, Sauron,” Manwë said, “you are as skilled as ever, and your behavior since you returned to life has been the best. I believe it is time you teach the younger Valar and Maiar who want to learn the craft.”

Sauron was so surprised that he said nothing and just stared at Manwë and Aulë. Teaching the younger Valar and Maiar? Did Manwë remember what happened the last time Sauron taught his craft to the Quendi?

“I remember what you did,” Manwë was stern, “Eru has forgiven you, and we must trust you with this task. Evil is no longer possible in Arda Healed. We will know if you have relapsed.”

Of course, Sauron mused. Someone was going to keep an eye on him.

“There is an old workshop in Valmar,” Aulë said, “Nobody has used it for ages. I believe you could work there, but I require you to return here at the end of the journey.”

“Yes, my lord,” Sauron said, trying to understand why the two Valar looked so tense. They were not happy with this, yet they were asking him to teach his crafts to the youngsters. They said they trusted him, but they were going to observe his behavior. 

“You can get ready now,” Aulë said. “Eonwë will bring you to the workshop.” 

Only then did Sauron notice Manwë’s herald standing close. Who was that with him? Was that…? 

Sauron quickly turned around and rushed to his quarters, all the time feeling grey eyes on his back. 

Why had Melkor come? 

No, not Melkor, but Meren. Sauron had to remember the new name or Aulë would punish him in a most horrible way. An image of Olórin giving him a lecture came to Sauron’s mind. 

_Meren. Meren. Meren._

_I like how my name sounds in your mind, lovely one._

Sauron froze, and slammed his shields down. The last thing he was going to do is allow this youngster with Melkor’s face to mind-speak to him with his master’s words. Had Manwë not learned anything? He had to keep an eye on his unruly brother, and teach him not to read other people’s minds.


	2. Chapter 2

The workshop was close to Manwë’s lair, enough for anyone in his household to reach it without having to walk too far. There were few students, which was all right because Sauron didn’t want to have overly worried parents looking over his shoulder as well, or reading his mind just to make sure that he was not teaching the younglings how to make weapons. That had been Melkor, after all, and it was ironic that the Vala was sitting around with a look of innocence and wonder on his beautiful face while everyone cast suspicious glances in Sauron’s direction. It was not fair, but when had Eru been fair? 

A sense of disapproval coming from nowhere shook Sauron from his musings. He quickly apologized in his mind, hoping Eru turned his attention elsewhere, there were the Secondborn to take care of, after all. Not even the Valar knew where they were. 

Teaching the youngsters was unexpectedly pleasant, and soon Sauron forgot that Eonwë was walking around, trying to look amenable, or that Meren was invading Sauron’s space at every turn. Meren was really bad at crafts. The Vala tried with copper, with mithril, and even with stone, but all he managed to manufacture were the most basic tokens. Maybe it was a blessing, Sauron mused, Melkor was really good at weaponry, but that ability was no longer needed in boring Arda Healed.

Finally the class was over, and Eonwë informed Sauron that he was free to linger in the workshop, or go back to Aulë’s household. When Meren said that he would keep Sauron company Eonwë paled visibly, but bowed obediently and left as fast as he could, probably to tell Manwë about this. 

“I am so bad at this,” Meren said, apparently amused by his lack of ability. 

“Maybe if you practice some more,” Sauron said, wondering why he was encouraging Meren to stay in the workshop. Surely Manwë expected otherwise. 

“But I am good at this,” Meren said, producing a scroll, eyes dancing with mischief. “Open it, lovely one.”

“My name is Sauron.”

Meren didn’t seem to care about being corrected, so Sauron decided it would be better to look into the scroll and be done with it. He gasped softly when he saw the drawing. It was Sauron himself, lying in a forest clearing, vines around his arms and legs. 

“What is the meaning of this?” Sauron demanded, relieved that his voice was steadier than his legs. 

“I don’t know, call it artistic license. You don’t think I would tie you to a bed, do you?”

“Tie me to a bed? Just how old are you? Does Manwë know you make these… these drawings?”

Meren took the scroll from Sauron’s hands. “Of course Manwë doesn’t know. It’s not easy to have an older brother, and worse when he is the Lord of all Valar. Manwë is not that bad, actually. And I am of age.”

_This is my punishment. I should have known the Valar wouldn’t forgive my sins so easily. What am I supposed to do with a young Melkor, who wants to take me to bed, but doesn’t even remember me?_

“My brother warned me to be careful with you,” Meren said quietly. “He told me that you fell into evil, along with others, but he said I shouldn’t treat you differently because of it.”

“How nice of Lord Manwë,” Sauron murmured under his breath. 

Meren cocked his head to a side. “You don’t like my brother, do you?”

“Lord Manwë has been most generous with me,” Sauron recited. “And now I should go back to Lord Aulë’s house. I need to finish a task.”

“Aren’t you tired?” Meren asked. “Even Maiar can get tired. Come with me to Avathar. I have a house there. It is beautiful. You can hear Lord Ulmo’s voice in the creek.”

Sauron stared at Meren for a full minute, before he recovered and shook his head. “That is a very kind offer, Lord Meren, but I really need to go back to my duties.”

Meren’s face fell a bit, but he didn’t give up. “Then I will take you back,” he said. “I have Nárelen outside.”

Sauron gave up, unable to resist Meren’s smile. It was not fair that his former master would come back in the form of a charming young Vala. It was not fair that still after all this time Melkor’s mere presence was enough to turn his world upside down. 

Nárelen was a beautiful chesnut horse, and after rubbing her neck affectionately, Meren gestured for Sauron to do the same.

Sauron watched Meren get on the horse and mounted behind him. He tried to stay as detached as possible, but his body insisted on falling against Melkor’s, and his head almost swam at the memories of darker times. They didn’t speak until Nárelen stopped outside Aulë’s household. 

“Will you allow me to watch you work on those lamps?” Meren asked.

“How do you know…?”

“I saw them in your mind.”

“You should not read my mind!”

“Hush,” Meren said, “there is no need for anger. I will refrain from reading your mind if that’s what you want. I was not planning to do it, but it was… familiar, somehow. Do you know why?”

Sauron froze. 

“I have seen you watching me from afar.” 

Sauron swallowed hard. “I am sorry…”

The grey eyes regarded him calmly. “There is no need to apologize, lovely one. I have been watching you too. There is something about you that touches my spirit in a way no one has before. I will not force you to tell me, but I expect you to do so when the time is right.”

Sauron nodded slowly, too stunned to realize that he was actually agreeing to speak with Meren about the past. His inner alarms went off when Meren moved closer, and when the Vala reached out to touch his hair, Sauron was lost once again. The kiss was gentle, but the arms around his body held him in a possessive embrace. Sauron concentrated on keeping his mind blank, so Meren didn’t see the past. Only when Meren let go of him did Sauron see Yavanna standing there.

“My lady,” Sauron murmured, trembling uncontrollably. Meren’s arm was still around his waist, so Sauron moved away. 

Yavanna’s expression was stern. “Go back to your duties, Sauron,” she said. “I need to have a word with you, Meren.”

Sauron bowed, and headed to his quarters without looking back. He could still feel Meren’s hands on his body, and the memory of the kiss made his head swim, so intense were the sensations. This was not Melkor; this was not his master, but Meren, Manwë’s younger brother. Sauron could not allow Meren to come close or kiss him again.


	3. Chapter 3

Meren didn’t come to the workshop the next day, not the day after that. 

Eonwë was always there to keep an eye on him, Manwë and Varda came, but they left after watching him work with the students for a while, even Aulë had come to the workshop that day, but Meren never showed up. Sauron had masked his disappointment as best he could, but his spirit ached for the loss. He was also angry; at Yavanna, at Manwë, at Meren himself. 

Why Had Manwë allowed Meren to come so close if he meant to take him away again? Had Yavanna convinced the younger Vala that it was better to stay away from a fallen one? Had Meren accepted this? The hypocrisy of the Valar was unbelievable! Sauron’s spirit ached, but there was nothing he could do about it. Not if he wanted to stay in Valmar… Unless… unless. Shaking his head, Sauron firmly pushed any thought of Meren away, and concentrated on his students.

Weeks turned into months, and though his students kept him busy, Sauron was turning increasingly restless. He worked diligently to the point of exhaustion, trying to keep nightmares at bay. He would dream of the old Melkor, and he would also dream of Meren. He would dream of seducing the young Vala and turning him back to evil. He would dream of the moment when Meren remembered, not only his own evil deeds, but also Sauron’s betrayal. 

He had abandoned his master when the Host of the Valar had come for him. He had approached Eonwë in search of forgiveness, but the Maia had spoken of judgment and punishment. So Sauron had decided to stay in Middle-earth, and wait for his master to come back. In the end, Sauron had taken Melkor’s place and tried to subject Middle-earth to his will. 

Sauron’s only attempt at retaliation at the Valar had ended in disaster. He could not really claim that making Ar-Pharazon's attack the Blessed Lands and Númenor sink had been an attempt to rescue Melkor, though. All Sauron had been thinking back then was of gaining his freedom back, and testing the power of the One Ring. No, if Meren remembered, he would know that Sauron had betrayed him. 

Perhaps it would be better not to cross Meren’s path again. It would be better to bury the past and try to endure a life without passion and purpose. No, not without a purpose, Sauron mused as he reached Aulë’s household. He had a new purpose now, to work and teach his craft to those who wanted to learn, but as much as he enjoyed this task, Sauron was a prisoner in a golden cage. Would Eru ever trust him completely? Would Manwë realize that Sauron would never… no, he was deceiving himself because if Melkor came back, Sauron would follow him to the end of Arda. 

“No, I mustn’t…”

Memories flooded Sauron’s mind, making him shiver as the feeling of Melkor’s hands on his skin became almost real. 

…If only Meren had not kissed him... 

…If only Meren had not woken long forgotten sensations, making Sauron ache for more… 

Would his body never forget? Was Sauron’s mind so attuned to Melkor’s will that even this youngster shook him to the core? 

“Master…”

“Are you feeling well, child?”

It was Yavanna. 

Sauron started violently, blindly reaching for support. The hand that caught his was Olórin’s, and Sauron could see Curúnir standing close. What was this? He let go of Olórin’s hand, trying to escape the Maia’s scrutiny. 

“Leave us alone, please,” Yavanna asked. 

Once they were alone, Yavanna repeated her question. She seemed genuinely worried, even if it was probably her fault that Meren was staying away. No, not her fault, but his own, Sauron reminded himself. He shouldn’t have allowed Meren to kiss him. He could have said no. Meren would have let him go, wouldn’t he?

“I am well, my lady. Nobody suffers from physical illness in the Blessed Realm. You surprised me that is all, I was deep in thought when you spoke to me.”

Yavanna smiled wistfully. “Will you not confide in me, Sauron? You seem to be in pain, and I am willing to listen.”

Pride surged inside Sauron’s chest, but the gentle expression of the Valie prevented him from saying something rude. There was no pity in her eyes, just understanding. They were standing near the entrance of Aulë’s own lair as Yavanna gestured for Sauron to follow her to a small garden where they could speak undisturbed. They sat together in a beautifully carved stone bench that Sauron himself had made when he first came back from the Halls. 

“I am… confused, my lady,” Sauron said quietly. There were many things he wanted to say, but this was the most important. Sauron had become used to being in command, but before he fell, he liked rules and structure. He had settled back in Aulë’s household’s routine with relative ease, but now his peace of mind had been shattered by recent events. 

“I know not what the Valar expect from me,” he continued. “I know not why Eru has placed me in this position…” 

“You speak about Meren.”

Sauron nodded. “Yes, my lady. Meren has been reborn, and he is no longer the Vala I knew, yet he is still the same in so many ways that I know not how to deal with him.”

“I know he has stayed away from the workshop.”

“He has,” Sauron said. 

Yavanna looked at him for a moment. “I told Meren that he should not disturb you. Manwë warned him to be careful with you, but he did not listen. Meren is good now, but that doesn’t mean that he always listens to reason.”

“If you don’t want him to come anywhere near me, why then the workshop, why allow him to attend my first class there? Even if I fell and deserve to be punished, I would appreciate it if you didn’t pave my path with temptations.”

Yavanna raised her eyebrows. “Do you feel the need to do evil again, Sauron?”

Sauron considered it for a moment, and then shook his head slowly. “No, I could live like this, working and being part of your household.”

“We also want you to be happy, Sauron.”

“I can never be happy now that I have seen him again,” Sauron said quietly, eyes fixed on a far away point. “I loved Melkor. I was his servant, his toy, but I admired him and loved him. But I was caged in Angband, I had no free will. I didn’t want to be caged anymore, but if Melkor… Meren wanted me to be caged I would be unable to say no.”

"Maybe that is why Eru has placed Meren in your path," Yavanna said.

"So he can cage me again?"

"No, Sauron, so you can resist the temptation to give up your free will again."

"I would have preferred Eru didn't do something like this. The Melkor I knew is no longer there, but Meren's kiss…it felt… I know not if I would have the strength to say no to him. I tried in the past, but his fire consumed me every time I dared to come close to refusing him."

"You cannot give up your free will again, Sauron. I don't think Meren wants to cage you, but he is powerful and willful. Manwë and Varda have managed to keep him from turning to evil so far, but the hardest part comes now that he is of age. Everything could start again."

“Then you should keep him away from me, my lady.”

There was disappointment in Yavanna’s eyes. “Will you not try to be strong for him, Sauron? You say you love him.”

“That is why I have to stay away from him,” Sauron said quietly. “I am not strong enough to oppose him if he wills it. If I fall again, it will be Meren’s fall too.”

Yavanna sighed. “Things are not that simple. Eru erased his mind, but Meren asks questions, and Manwë is not lying to him.”

“Does he know…?”

“That he brought evil to us? No, but he suspects it. He will ask the question, and he will know then. He will need someone to stand beside him. Manwë and Varda love him, but you understand him better than anyone else. Think about it, Sauron.”

“I will, my lady.”

Yavanna stood, and Sauron followed her outside the garden. After she left, he headed to his quarters. He wanted to help Meren, but this was beyond his strength. He had tried to forget Meren’s touch, but it had been futile. As he entered his quarters, Sauron knew what to do. The best way to help Meren would be to stay away from him.


	4. Chapter 4

The First Fruits Festival was a joyous celebration for the Quendi, and most Valar and Maiar joined the celebrations. Lady Nienna never came, and Lord Ulmo had come this time, but it was not usual to see his blue hair among the crowd. The Quendi were there, even King Finwë, out of the Halls at last. Sauron wondered what the Noldo King felt when he saw Meren. It was very obvious what Feänor felt, but apparently Finwë’s son had also learned about restraint. 

What Sauron didn’t understand was why Aulë had ordered him to attend the festival too. Everyone knew who he was, and who he had been in Middle-earth. Every elf standing there knew that Sauron had helped Melkor to maim and torture their relatives, turning them into Orcs. They didn’t look at him with contempt, but they didn’t look at him with sympathy, either. Maybe next year Aulë would finally understand that the Quendi were not ever going to forgive Sauron. 

For now, Sauron stood beside his lady, wondering how Curúnir managed to look so dignified after all he’d done. At least Sauron hadn’t failed his mission like Curúnir. Why was the other Maia smirking now? Sauron sighed and raised a hand to brush his hair off his face. That was when he felt it. Someone was looking at him. Meren was looking at him. They locked eyes for a moment until Sauron was able to turn his eyes away and in doing so he met Curúnir’s eyes. 

“He is persistent,” Curúnir said quietly.

Sauron tried not to frown. “He always was.”

“He will look for you again.”

“But I don’t want to see him!”

The sudden silence around him made Sauron realize that he had spoken too loud. Aulë looked angry, and Yavanna mildly amused. Sauron looked down, not before quickly surveying his surroundings. Nobody else seemed to have noticed his outburst. When he finally gathered the courage to look up again, Meren was still looking at him. Sauron glared at the Vala, which earned him a surprised look. Then everyone’s attention was centered on Manwë. 

As soon as the ceremony was over Sauron returned to Aulë’s household, hoping Meren stayed with Manwë to attend the celebrations. The Vala now seemed happy to interact with the other Valar and Maiar, and even with the Quendi. Sauron wondered what would happen if Meren learned the truth. It was probably what he deserved, but Sauron hoped it never happened. The young Vala had been given a new opportunity by Eru. It would be terrible if Meren fell again. 

“I thought you’d never come back,” a voice said behind Sauron as soon as he entered his quarters. 

“Meren? Show yourself!” 

The Vala materialized in front of him, a contrite expression on his beautiful face. Meren wanted to hit him, to embrace him… 

“There is no need to look so scared, lovely one,” Meren said, coming closer.

“I’m not scared but angry!” Sauron snapped. “And my name is Sauron, not… lovely one…”

Meren smiled and reached to touch Sauron’s hair. “But Sauron is not a nice name. I believe you should change it, something related to your beautiful dark hair… Lindalomë… that should be your name.”

Sauron shivered. “No, beauty can be evil too, and I was evil. I fell into the deepest pits; I tortured and maimed Elves and Men. Sauron is a fitting name, or Gorthaur.”

Meren shook his head, fingering a long dark braid. “I know what you did, but you are not evil anymore, are you? Eru would never have allowed someone evil to come back to Arda Healed.”

Sauron was trying to move back, and to recover his braid from Melkor’s hand, but his limbs were not obeying his commands. He tried to leave the flesh, but it didn’t work either. Was Meren…? 

“I would never force you to stay in the flesh,” Meren said, sliding an arm around Sauron’s waist and pulling him closer, “even if such flesh is lovely, I would touch your spirit too. Will you allow it, lovely one?”

“Stay out of my head,” Sauron whispered, trembling uncontrollably as he tried to suppress the memories Meren’s closeness was bringing. He could not allow a joining of their minds. 

“As you wish, Lindalöme,” Meren said, kissing the bridge of Sauron’s nose before loosening his grip. The tenderness of the gesture brought tears to Sauron’s eyes, but he swallowed them. This was… Meren and Sauron was not an innocent… unlike the one who was kissing his throat and slowly steering him to the bed. 

Sauron still tried to command his body to push Meren back, but his traitorous flesh was reacting to the young Vala’s touch as it did when it was Melkor the one touching him. Yet Meren’s touch was gentler, even if demanding. Sauron was suddenly on the bed, head thrown back, legs parted in offering, unable to do anything but moan and pant as Meren’s touch brought him to new levels of pleasure. 

“You are so beautiful, so alluring,” Meren whispered against Sauron’s skin. When had Meren undressed him? Had the Valar used his power to do so? Sauron reached for Meren’s dark-blond hair almost hesitantly, and pulled him close for a new kiss. The Vala’s clothes disappeared as their bodies pressed together and Sauron forgot all caution. 

“Meren… What do you do to me?” he managed. 

“Do you like it? Do you want me to stop?” 

“No, please don’t…”

“You don’t need to beg, Lindalomë,” Meren whispered in Sauron’s ear. “All you need to do is open yourself to me. I want you to be mine.”

“I am yours, always yours, Master…”

The hands on Sauron’s flesh stilled, but it was brief, so brief that Sauron believed it had been his imagination. He was too lost in the pleasure to notice his own slip, and the horror and confusion on Meren’s face. When Sauron felt Meren’s mind merge with his, it was too late. He tried to push Meren away, but it was no longer possible as memories of their past flooded Sauron’s mind for Meren to see. When it was over, Meren moved away, and Sauron curled up on the bed, too shaken to react or lash out at the Vala. 

“You should have told me,” Meren said after a while. 

Sauron closed his eyes. “How could I?”

“I trusted you to tell me when the time was right.”

“It was never right!” Sauron sat up and forced himself to look at Meren. The pain in the grey eyes was disturbingly close to madness. Sauron extended a hand, but Meren stood and walked away from him. 

“You called me master. Did I enslave you?”

Sauron shook his head. “You didn’t, no. I came to you by my own will, but once in your arms, I was unable to leave your side again.”

“Is that why you gave yourself to me now?” Meren asked quietly. 

Sauron stood. “I don’t know,” he said truthfully. “You are not the same as you were before. You are different, gentler, and you make me wish for redemption. Yet you are the same in so many ways…”

“I’m not him!” Meren exclaimed, grabbing Sauron’s arms. “I would never bring such pain and darkness to the Blessed Lands! I would never betray my own brother!”

“I know. That is not what I meant… This is just so confusing…”

“I’m not him,” Meren repeated, “but I can be him, if that is what you want, if that is what you need. I have seen enough in your mind to know how. I can cage you, and deny you free will until you beg for my presence. I can be Melkor for you, if that is what you want from me!”

Sauron tried to back away, but the iron-like grip on his arms stopped him. The beautiful face was no longer the one he had come to love in Meren. There was fire in the grey eyes, a dark fire that burnt any shred of resistance. When Meren kissed him again, all Sauron could do was moan as he melted in his master’s embrace.


	5. Chapter 5

It was all too similar to Almaren, so long ago, when Melkor snatched Sauron away, forcing him to leave the flesh as they headed to the Vala’s lair. It had marked Sauron’s fall, and little by little he had been caught in a net of passion and darkness. Had there been love back then? Sauron didn’t know the answer, but his concern for Meren’s wellbeing was proof enough that something had changed. 

It was Sauron who left the flesh voluntarily this time, and Meren followed suit. Without further word, the Vala brought Sauron to a house set in the middle of a forest south from Tirion and Valmar. Avathar, the place where Melkor had kept his dark secrets until he and Ungoliantë had destroyed the Trees. It must have been a dark place back then, but it was beautiful now. The air was clean, birds sang in the trees, and Sauron could sense Ulmo’s power in the creek nearby. 

As he resumed his corporeal form, Sauron wondered if the Valar would come and take Meren away. The Vala had taken the flesh too, and he was looking around, a deep frown darkening his features. 

“I know now why nobody lives here,” Meren said. “I made this a dark place, while you hid in Middle-earth.”

Sauron started. Was Meren remembering the past? 

Meren chuckled darkly. “You were still a good servant back then, but after I was captured by… by them… Chained by them… You betrayed me, Sauron.”

Sauron could see that Meren was having a hard time keeping the dark persona up. It was obvious that Meren was not the same as Melkor, and that every word cost him more than he would admit. Sauron wanted to gather him close and give some comfort, but he was afraid. Meren knew now that Sauron had betrayed Melkor and taken his place in Middle-earth. It was probably selfish, but Sauron’s first instinct had always been self-preservation, and this was a furious Vala advancing on him.

“I tried to find a way to rescue you!”

Meren laughed. “By making the Secondborn invade the Blessed Lands? That was a stupid idea, and you were only trying to save your own hide.”

Sauron swallowed hard. “That is true, but I didn’t have your powers. I couldn’t have confronted the Valar alone! I swear I never stopped thinking of you, Master…”

“Do. Not. Call. Me. Master.”

_Damn! How could I?_

“I’m sorry, Lord Meren.”

The Vala was standing so close that Sauron could touch him. Madness, anger, and pain radiated from Meren, and Sauron extended a hand reflexively. His gesture was stopped by Meren’s iron-grip hold. 

“Don’t you dare touch me!” Meren snapped. “Move!”

Meren steered Sauron inside the lair, and didn’t stop until they reached the bedroom. Sauron looked around nervously, expecting to see Eonwë show up at any moment. Even if Sauron was not important, Meren surely was. 

“You will stay here until I say so,” Meren commanded, “and you will not leave the flesh. Your place is here, where you cannot plan a way to betray me again.”

Sauron shivered, but refused to be intimidated by Meren’s attitude. “You cannot keep me here against my will, Meren. It is not… right…”

Meren laughed. “You care about right or wrong, now? You who tortured and maimed Eru’s children… you really believe you can be good now?”

“I can!” Sauron was angry now, “and it’s more difficult than being good with no memories of the past!”

Meren’s hand was on Sauron’s throat the next moment. “I could crush you with my hand before you managed to call for help. I could torture you until you wanted nothing but to fall into oblivion. I could do all those things, and nobody would care a damn!”

Sauron struggled not to panic. _No, you could not… You are not him anymore… but even if you were, Melkor never tortured me..._

Meren pushed him on the bed, and let him go. “Melkor was a monster… He tortured the Quendi and the Secondborn. He destroyed everything, and even created those… those Orcs, which you also bred. We are the same, you and I, monsters that should never have left the Halls. Melkor… I deserved to die…”

“And Melkor died, but Eru brought him back, brought you back, Meren. He knew of your anger, of the evil you had done, and he brought you back. And Manwë and Varda accepted you. Even the others did.”

“Manwë must be waiting for me to bury a knife in his back. Maybe I should do just that so everyone stops waiting for me to fall.”

Sauron sat up. “You don’t mean that.”

“Everybody lied to me! Even Eru did!”

“Did you ever ask them if you had lived another life before?”

Meren shook his head. “They should have told me, anyway. You should have told me, but you were afraid. You didn’t want me to remember your betrayal.”

Sauron froze, and when Meren came close again, he didn’t move. Meren pushed him back on the bed, and lay atop him. 

“You promised to be mine,” Meren said, lips brushing Sauron’s skin, “I will never allow you to leave this place. I don’t care if Aulë calls you, or if Yavanna asks me to allow you to leave. I don’t care what Manwë or Varda say. You are mine, Sauron.”

Sauron bit his lip, wishing Meren called him Lindalomë and knowing it would never happen again. When Meren kissed him, Sauron parted his lips and opened himself to the Vala. Meren trudged through Sauron’s memories mercilessly, making him relieve every moment since Almaren. When it was over, Sauron lay on the bed, trembling as Meren undressed him again.

“You are beautiful, so beautiful that I understand why he wanted to have you,” Meren whispered against Sauron’s skin. “I will cage you, Sauron, so you never leave my side or betray me again.”

Sauron moaned softly when Meren bit the skin of his neck, hard enough to mark him, but not as hard as Melkor would have. It was like having a gentler Melkor… No, it was different, but pleasurable as well. 

“You are… so responsive… Touch me, Sauron… I want to remember your touch…” 

Sauron reached for Meren’s back, stroking, lightly scrapping it with his nails, body arching against the strong body. Meren was going down his chest, touching, kissing, and biting, making Sauron writhe in pleasure. 

“Meren… oh, Meren…”

It was so different to his usual encounters with Melkor that for a moment Sauron forgot himself and just panted and moaned, hands buried in Meren’s soft hair. If only he could stay in the Vala’s arms forever…

“I want you,” Meren said, and this time there was no madness in his eyes, but raw desire. Sauron parted his legs and pulled Meren close in acceptance, certain than instinct would guide him, but ready to help if necessary. 

Meren was imaginative enough, and after a few hints, Sauron could abandon himself to the young one’s ministrations. Meren touched Sauron’s body without hurting him, and even the brief flash of pain was drowned in amazingly intense pleasure. There was an undeniable possessive manner in Meren, but Sauron gave himself more willingly than ever, learning for the first time in his life that physical pleasure needed not be tainted by darkness. 

_I love him… I love Meren… Eru help me…_

“You are mine now,” Meren said when it was over. “I will tell Aulë that you will stay with me from now on. I don’t want you to leave this place.”

Sauron blinked. “You cannot keep me here, Meren.”

The beautiful face darkened. “I thought you longed for this, beautiful one. I thought you wanted to be caged.”

“You are not Melkor.”

Meren stroked Sauron’s hair almost lovingly. “But you want him back, do you not?”

Sauron tried to sit up and found himself invisibly bound to the bed. He tried to speak, but no word came out of his mouth. Meren was still stroking his hair, smiling darkly.

“Everybody deceived me, and you were the worst of them,” Meren continued. “You will stay here, and Eru help you if I find you calling for help. I am your Master.”

Sauron struggled to move, to say a word, to form a coherent thought, but his mind was clouding, he thought he heard Melkor laughing. As he struggled to stay awake, Sauron thought he sensed Yavanna’s mind-touch. Then he was falling into a dark pit, and he was pulling Meren down with him.


	6. Chapter 6

Sauron was drowning in the darkness, unable to do anything but blindly search for Meren. The Vala was nowhere to be seen, but Sauron could feel the pain radiating from him, permeating every corner of their mind-link. What worried Sauron more was that he could still hear Melkor’s laughter. The fear he felt was almost paralyzing. Had Melkor returned? Had madness finally taken hold of Meren? What to do now? Should he try to save Meren? Or should he simply give up, and stop fighting his newly returned master? 

If Meren turned evil, and Sauron followed him, they would be expelled from Valinor and everything would start again. That had been Yavanna’s fear, but would the Valar not imprison Melkor before he could do any harm? Would they not chain Meren and punish Sauron? Why had Yavanna been so worried then? Meren was only a young Vala, confused and angry by the truth he’d just learned. Manwë would probably do something about his brother and send Sauron into Namo’s care, even if this meant reopening the Halls for him alone. 

Sauron reached out tentatively, but Meren retreated out of his reach. For a moment, Sauron considered letting him be, but his hesitation was brief and the next moment he was pushing his way through Meren’s mind, surprised not to find any resistance. The Vala’s mind was in chaos, anger and desperation warring for control. There was guilt too, and shame, slowly crushing the Vala’s spirit under their weight. 

Fear seized Sauron. Why had Eru not realized that something like this could happen? Why had The One believed that Sauron could save Meren from this? Once again Sauron felt tempted to simply give up and follow Meren into the darkness, pulling him deeper until the pain vanished and the shame and guilt turned into hate. But again Sauron’s conscience and concern for Meren’s wellbeing got in the way. He loved Meren, and he wanted to save him. Just how stupid did that sounded? ‘I am a fool’, Sauron mused as he peered into the darkness. 

_Meren!:: he called._

There was no answer. 

_Meren!_

Still no answer, but the darkness grew denser, colder. Sauron almost panicked when his mind started to cloud again.

_Stop these games, Meren!_

Laughter, anger, and madness, as Melkor’s memories cascaded into Meren’s mind. 

_NO!_

Even if it hurt, Sauron breached through Meren’s mental barriers, not knowing what else to do. He had never comforted anyone in his whole life, and now Meren needed him to be there for him. Hoping to survive unscathed, Sauron bared the inner recesses of his mind and linked with Meren’s on a deeper plane. Everything was there for Meren to see: Sauron’s admiration of Melkor’s power, the love that surged in darkness, his fall, the moment of betrayal, the long years of loneliness and darkness, the Halls, his rebirth, and the pain of knowing that Melkor had died… A child with dark-blond hair who came to watch Sauron work…

_I love you, Meren, and the others love you too._

Meren recoiled, but Sauron continued relentlessly, pressing forward, laying his spirit bare until he no longer was able to break their mental link. It was something Sauron had never done before. Even when Melkor had fully control of him, Sauron had managed to keep part of his self out of the Vala’s reach. It had allowed Sauron a measure of free will, but if things went wrong now, his spirit would be chained forever. 

That might happen, because Meren was suddenly back in Sauron’s mind, apparently unconcerned with the pain he was causing. Sauron was reliving it all one more time, but this time it was Meren who chose the memories: the loss of his free will, his training into submission, his slow descent into darkness… there was no escape, no hope, only submission to his master’s will. 

And suddenly the invasion stopped, and when Meren let go Sauron realized that he was still unable to leave the flesh. Tears came to his eyes, for Meren, for himself, for how wrong things had gone. Sauron was shaking uncontrollably when Meren lay on the bed and wiped his tears away. 

“Sleep now,” came the soft command, and Sauron slept in his master’s arms.

He was alone when a new day came, invisibly bound to the bed by Meren’s power. Sauron didn’t care anymore. He had failed everyone, and soon Manwë would come to take Meren away. It was surprising that the Valar had allowed this to happen, though. They could have stopped Meren, so why they had chosen not to do it? Sauron was still trying to understand this when his master came in.

“I want you to go back to Aulë’s household, and pretend that nothing has happened. You will find those who are more susceptible to be brought into evil and bring them to me. I will not tolerate failure this time.”

Sauron blinked. “But the Valar will notice and…”

“You will make sure that they don’t,” Meren said calmly. “Manwë knows that you are here. He believes I have taken you as my lover. What a fool he is.”

An image of a child with dark-blond hair running after Manwë and Varda came to Sauron’s mind. The child had looked so happy back then.

Meren pulled Sauron to a sitting position and kissed him deeply. “I want you back here at night, lovely one. Now move, get dressed.”

Sauron stood on shaky feet and clothed himself in his usual simple garments. He then reached to braid his hair with his own hands, but Meren stopped him and fixed Sauron’s braids with his power. 

“Beautiful.” Meren cupped Sauron’s chin and peered into his eyes. “Should I put a collar on you, lovely one?”

Sauron shivered, and Meren laughed. “Go now, and do as I say.”

“No.”

The words were out before Sauron managed to stop himself. 

“WHAT?”

“I said no,” Sauron repeated, feeling stronger as he spoke. “I am not your slave, and I will not help you to deceive the Valar.”

Meren’s fingers were around Sauron’s neck the next moment. “You will do as I say.”

“No…” 

Surely Meren would hit him now, or kill him, but Sauron could not help the Vala to do evil. He had changed, and whatever good was there inside Meren would not be lost by his hand. He would not help Meren to start it all again. 

“I could kill you right now.”

“I know…”

Meren’s eyes blazed with fury, and Sauron could feel the Vala gathering his power and slowly suffocating him. But suddenly Meren closed his eyes and let him go.

“Leave now, before I change my mind,” Meren said slowly. “I don’t want to ever see you again. Stay away from me, or I will make you pay.”

Sauron’s shock at Meren’s actions didn’t stop him from taking the opportunity to leave. He quickly left the flesh, and didn’t stop until he was back in his quarters in Aulë’s household. The sight of his bed and his personal things was oddly comforting, and without thinking Sauron let himself fall on the mattress, curling up into a tight ball. He was shaking again, and when a presence filled the room, Sauron started violently.

“Peace, Sauron,” Yavanna said. “You are safe.”

She sat on the edge of the bed and stroked Sauron’s hair lovingly. “Sleep, child, and worry no more. You have saved yourself.”

“And Meren?”

“Time will say, but he is with Manwë now.”

Sauron looked at her, too exhausted to ask for details. A deep languor was taking hold of him, and he didn’t fight it. Had he saved his master?

“Not your master, Sauron,” Yavanna admonished softly. 

Sauron nodded tiredly, and his eyes unfocussed as sleep came to him. He could hear Yavanna speaking, but he could not understand the words. Was that Lord Irmo? Sauron wanted to wake, to speak, to ask about Meren, but slumber finally took hold of him.


	7. Chapter 7

It was strange to realize that the other Maiar in Aulë’s household actually worried for him, but to have Olórin paying him a visit was simply bizarre. After all, they had been enemies in Middle-earth, and Sauron might still be a powerful lord there if Olórin had been kind enough to stay dead when the Balrog took him down in Moria. 

So why had Olórin come? 

Curúnir had come too, of course and Sauron tried to curb his irritation and endure their presence. Surely they had better things to do than drink Teleri wine in Sauron’s receiving room. 

“This is interesting,” Curúnir said, reaching for a book about metal craft. Aulë had given it to Sauron when he returned to the Vala’s service and he sighed inwardly. Who had given Curúnir permission to take it from the shelf?

“Are you going to stay in your quarters all day, Sauron?” Olórin asked casually. 

“Maybe,” Sauron grumbled. If he wanted to stay in his quarters all day, it was no one’s business but his. Lady Yavanna had given him permission to work in his rooms, and he actually did leave his quarters at night, to walk in the Lady’s garden. 

“Are you not bored?” Curúnir asked, taking a seat. 

“We can keep him company, Curúnir,” Olórin said, taking the book from him. “Metal craft… interesting, I guess. Do you read other things, like history…?”

“Romance novels, perhaps?” Curúnir put in, grinning. 

“Of course I don’t read romance novels!” Sauron snapped, “and if you two are finished rummaging through my books, you could tell me why you are here! I know we are supposed to get along now, but that doesn’t mean you suddenly like me, and I certainly don’t like either of you, so speak.”

Olórin raised an eyebrow, and Curúnir smirked. Sauron looked from one to the other, wondering what it would take to make them leave. He was about to start another tirade when it dawned on him that they were trying to annoy him on purpose, but why?

“Today is your students’ exhibit,” Olórin said.

Sauron slammed his mental shields down. 

“And they want you there for some reason,” Curúnir added, earning a “look” from Olórin. 

Sauron blinked. “I thought the workshop was closed.”

“It was reopened by Lord Aulë,” Olórin explained. “Curúnir has been in charge since then.”

Sauron turned to glare at Curúnir. 

“I used to be good at metal crafts,” Curúnir explained meekly. It was obvious that he was enjoying Sauron’s confusion immensely. “And Lord Meren has helped me with the students.”

Meren? 

“I know he is bad at most safe crafts,” Curúnir continued, “but he’s good at drawing, and he has been teaching those who were interested and you have been hiding in your quarters for too long, Sauron.”

“I haven’t been hiding, you traitor.”

Olorin sighed. “Peace, you two. The students want you there, Sauron. We will leave you now, but I think you should attend the exhibit. After all, you are those younglings’ teacher. Think about it.”

Sauron nodded tensely, and didn’t move until Olórin and Curúnir had left. His knees felt weak, and he was having problems breathing. So Meren had been at the workshop all this time? This meant that the Vala had been saved or Manwë would never have allowed him near the students. It was a relief, but at the same time it made Sauron’s spirit ache. He had hoped that Meren would come for him, but maybe it was better like this. Sauron was a reminder of Meren’s terrible past. 

It was tempting to stay in his quarters and let Curúnir take care of it all, but the students wanted him there and Sauron could not fail them, it was unfortunate to have a conscience, and he did actually care for the younglings. Sighing in exasperation, Sauron quickly clothed himself, left the flesh and headed to Valmar. 

There was no trace of Meren when Sauron entered the workshop, and though it was a relief, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed. If Meren had been teaching the students how to sketch, then he should be present too. Did Meren despise Sauron so much that he had left his students alone? 

Even Manwë was present, along with other Valar and Maiar and they all congratulated Sauron on his success with the students. The wariness in their eyes had faded, but Sauron knew that they would be glad when their sons and daughters left the workshop for good. 

“Have you seen Meren’s sketches, Lord Sauron?” 

Sauron turned to look at the young Maia, unable to process her words. What did she mean, Meren’s sketches? Sauron had seen the students’ sketches, some of them very good, but Meren was showing his work too? 

_Oh, Eru, please. Not the drawing he showed me._

“There is a beautiful drawing there,” another student said. “I think it’s you, but Nendequildë says I am wrong.”

Nendequildë grinned. “I think the Maia in the picture is Salmar, but why don’t you come with us to see it?”

Sauron nodded faintly, and followed the younglings to a smaller room illuminated by a soft blue lamp. He knew it could not be Salmar. If Meren had his memories back he would never have defied Ulmo so. No, it couldn’t be Salmar… 

Meren’s drawings were beautiful, and memories of times past flooded Sauron’s mind as he saw Middle-earth through the Vala’s eyes. Meren had brought back the beauty of the land, and the destruction he and Sauron had wrought. Light and darkness, healing and redemption, hatred turning into love…

“That is Salmar,” Nendequildë said, but she didn’t sound so sure anymore. 

“No, that is Lord Sauron,” Moricanë insisted. “Let him see.”

Sauron turned around and saw an image of himself on Almaren, watching someone who was not in the sketch. Sauron was standing there, long braided dark hair, gray eyes, curiosity and awe on his face. It was the way Melkor saw him the day the Vala snatched him away. It was the day of Sauron’s fall, but the name of the picture was Lindalomë. 

“I think you are right,” Nendequindë whispered. “Lindalomë, beautiful darkness… it suits you better than Salmar.”

Sauron wanted to berate Nendequildë for her boldness, but it was difficult to do it while his cheeks were burning. He looked away, glad when someone called the younglings. Once alone, Sauron looked at every picture once again, his spirit crying for all the wrongs done, and for the time wasted in hatred. He wished Meren was here, and at the same time was afraid to see the young Vala again. What had happened between them would not be easily forgotten. Meren had taken him, had made Sauron his own once again, and finally sent him away. 

“I have asked Manwë to forgive me,” a voice said behind Sauron. “I have asked the forgiveness of everyone I hurt, even of those I cannot reach because they are with Eru. I ask your forgiveness now, Sauron. Will you not look at me?”

Sauron turned around slowly, too shocked to do anything but look at Meren. The Vala was standing there, dressed in white and red, his dark-blond hair held back by a golden circlet. The usually stormy grey eyes were serene. Sauron wanted to yell at him, and hug him close, and yell at him again. 

“Do you forgive me, Sauron?”

Sauron nodded and went into Meren’s arms. “Yes, I forgive you… I have been so worried for you. I believed I would never see you again.”

“That could never happen,” Meren said quietly. 

Sauron withdrew a bit and looked into Meren’s eyes. “Will you forgive me, for not telling you, for betraying you in the past, for not being strong enough back then?”

There was pain in Meren’s eyes. “Of course I forgive you, my bold one. You were strong enough to stop me now, and that was enough to bring me back to my senses.”

“I… I almost gave in…”

“But you didn’t, and I saw your love. I could have killed you, Sauron.”

“I know, but I could not allow you to…”

“You could not allow me to start it all again.”

Sauron nodded.

“I am Meren now, Sauron, but I am Melkor too. I carry the memories of my new life along with the knowledge of my past sins. I can understand why I fell, and why Eru spared me the pain of those memories until now. I still dream of what I did, and sometimes I dream of hurting you. Do you want to know if Melkor loved you? He did, but he didn’t know other than to take for himself. I know different.”

“Meren, I… I loved you before, and I love you now, more than ever. I am yours. I will always be yours.”

“Mine, forever,” Meren whispered. “I love you, Lindalomë.”


	8. Chapter 8

When Sauron finally climbed out of sleep he was wrapped in soft covers, his head resting on Meren’s shoulder. The Vala was asleep, and the serene expression on his face enhanced his beauty. Sauron reached to gently brush a stray lock off Meren’s face, marveling at its softness. 

Sauron smiled, trying to remember what had happened after Meren showed up at the workshop. It seemed a dream now, Meren urging him to leave the flesh, their arrival at the lair in Avathar, Sauron’s reaction to the place, and Meren’s calming words… 

_This is where you saved me, my bold one. We are not innocents. We have done evil, but we can also bring light. We need to replace the painful memories with good ones before we can start a new life together._

Sauron had nodded, and they had entered the lair together, making love until exhaustion had forced them to sleep. They had woken together, and exchanged their vows, asking Eru to bless their union. They had fallen asleep once again, and for the first time in millennia Sauron had known true happiness. 

All Sauron wanted now was to stay with Meren forever…

_I think that could be arranged, lovely one._

Sauron started at the intrusion in his mind, but before he could protest Meren was kissing him again, his touch sweeping away any trace of coherent thought. Somewhere in the back of his mind Sauron was wondering if Meren would ever learn to respect the privacy of his thoughts, but his traitorous body didn’t seem to care. He could hear Meren chuckle, and then the Vala proceeded to turn Sauron into a shivering and wanton creature. 

“Beautiful,” Meren whispered, teasing Sauron’s earlobe. “Mine, only mine…”

“Yes, yours…” Sauron moaned in pleasure, wondering how Meren could do this to him without making him feel like a possession. How could Meren not wish to control Sauron when he was not able to oppose him? 

“You opposed me, remember?” Meren whispered in Sauron’s ear. “I love you more for that, my beautiful Lindalomë.”

“Meren…” Sauron closed his eyes at strong emotions swept through him at the use of the new name. His spirit escaped the flesh for a moment, which was a surprise in itself. Sauron had never been able to leave the flesh while joining with Melkor. 

“That’s right,” Meren said softly, obviously reading Sauron’s mind. “You are no longer bound to the flesh by my will, but I would have you stay in your body for now. I want to make you feel and forget the pain.”

Sauron’s spirit shimmered and then he was back in the flesh, giving himself willingly to Meren’s love. It was so new not to be constrained by Melkor’s will to passively accept his touches that Sauron showed Meren his love and passion like he had never done before. 

“I love you, Meren,” Sauron whispered. “Make me yours, and never let go of me…”

“Never again, my dark beauty,” Meren said quietly. “You are mine for eternity, this time by your own will.”

“Yes, I’m yours forever.” 

Meren smiled, and Sauron reached to stroke his cheek. It was amazing to hold Meren close and know that he was safe in the Vala’s arms. 

“Mine,” Sauron whispered against Meren’s lips, and this time it was him who started the kiss.


End file.
